Luscious
by Lycanthropys Cure
Summary: Christmas, a bed, a guitar, and Sirius. What could be better?


Beloved  
Make you feel like summer  
Make you feel like summertime  
Beloved  
I'm coming on down some day  
  
In the danger of the ride  
  
-Luscious Jackson  
  
If he could have put it into words, Sirius Black could have explained to the world the meaning of life as he stared in open mouth awe of the honey- haired boy before him. It wasn't just his eyes, but that smile; everything about him seemed to speak of golden honey, clear and mysterious and sweet. He had been aware of it the moment he first felt those lips on his and couldn't for the life of him think anything more than oh!  
  
But now he was in denial. It wasn't that it was Christmas, it wasn't that they finally had the dorm to themselves after spending the whole year spiriting away to deserted classrooms and barren corridors. It wasn't that they had woken for the first time in the same soft, downy bed that felt like no less than heaven. It was that, on top of all the euphoria of the last twenty-four hours, Moony had come to him holding a present, wrapped in deep midnight paper. It was large but light, and peeling back the paper revealed the unmistakable fingerboard of a guitar. The ebony wood, deeply polished and shining in the morning sun, had a silver lining that gleamed, and the belly sported a silver inlaid wolf, holing at the moon. Sirius fingered the strings lovingly, his mind racing with all the tunes he knew, the books he had bought furtively behind his families back, the practicing as he hid in the attic from the prying eyes of the house elves. He thought of the only time he had told Remus about his secret wish to be able to play better, about his desire for something better than the cheap, broken guitar he had found in a dump near Grimwauld place. But that had been almost a whole year back, and this guitar, this guitar! It was beyond his highest hopes! He had seen it in Diagon Alley in the window of the Magical Musical Instruments and Implements shop. He had fallen in love with it. But not with the price, no, the price was too high even for him with his small fortune locked away beneath the streets of London that he called an allowance. And so Sirius stared at his companion, his lover and his love. He felt ashamed of the present he had bought (a soft cloak lined with fox fur for the cold winter that always brought the smaller boy a chill) and couldn't help but blush in embarrassment even while that crooked grin spread like light across his face.  
  
"Remus, this is.This is." he couldn't speak; he had never been good at articulating his feelings as Remus was. He broke off, and regrouped. "How could you afford this?!" he asked, unable to say any of the other things he thought. Remus only shrugged, still smiling in an almost apprehensive way.  
  
"So you like it?" asked the youth. Sirius nodded emphatically.  
  
"Like it? I love it! I absolutely adore it! How did you know it was the one I wanted?" He asked, almost afraid to take his eyes off the guitar in case it disappeared. He was enraptured with the way the gold morning light was gleaming on it, casting gold light on the walls and bed-curtains and on the beaming face of Moony. Sirius suddenly had the overwhelming desire to kiss him. He set the guitar down to the side carefully, and crawled over the covers to wrap his arms around the smaller boy. He loved the small shiver that raced down Remus' spine as Sirius' fingers traced the skin on his back under the nightshirt he had given the boy. He loved the flush it brought to the pale face and the flash of something he had yet to fully understand in the honey-colored eyes. He loved the way the other responded to him when he kissed him, the way they could meld and fit each other perfectly, the way he was always warm to touch, the way he could make everything so perfect and make being sixteen the only time to live. He loved, he loved he loved.Remus, and how there was no one quite like him, how there would be no one like him for Sirius. Only Remus.  
  
But the guitar. the guitar was beautiful, it was what he wanted and he knew he would play it only for Remus, but how had he gotten it? Sirius pulled away from the youth a moment, eyes deep with thought. Remus sat up on his elbow below Sirius, gazing up with concern at his companion's face.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked. Sirius didn't answer at first. He ran a hand over one of the numerous scars that traced their way across the werewolf's stomach, signs of something terrible and painful. They were old; Remus hadn't torn at himself since the night James, Peter and Sirius had come to him in his wolf form as animagi. But they were there still, smooth and white and everywhere that the wolves teeth could have reached on its lupine body. And the bite mark on his neck, from when Moony had become so enraged at being torn from his prey of a little first year who had foolishly stumbled into the forest on a dare one night. He had howled, he had fought. He had given Padfoot such a bite on the back of his neck that the large black dog had forgotten its calm and attacked with a furious charge, ripping the wolfs ear and leaving a mark on the neck that remained afterwards. Sirius felt the back of his own neck; yes, the scar was there too.  
  
Sirius took the hand that played over his scars and kissed it on the palm, between the fingers. "What's wrong?" he repeated. Sirius shook his head.  
  
"You do too much for me, Moony. I don't deserve it, and you must have spent all your money on it!" he shook his head again, long black hair falling in his eyes, and Remus reached up to brush them away. His hand stayed on the others cheek before gripping the chin and pulling Sirius down into s deep kiss. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Remus said, a little breathlessly, and in the next few seconds any worries that Sirius might have had were quickly washed away.  
  
  
  
"Have you seen Remus?"  
  
Sirius had spent the day looking for his companion. He had finally finished the small piece he had written to play for Moony on the new guitar, and was anxious to show it to the boy. But James, absorbed with Matters of Evans, gave only a irritated shake of the head, before muttering a curse and heading down the corridor to pants Snape. Sirius would have joined him, but he was worried.  
  
It was a gorgeous spring day, the first in many months, and it was a Saturday. Sirius had found a perfect spot, just beyond the other side of the lake where the trees were green and the sun was warm and shining full on the water, and he knew it would be the perfect spot. But after hours of searching, he could find no trace of the other boy, and he was begging to worry. It was not the first time Remus had been gone on a weekend day, but Padfoot for the life of him could not get Moony to tell him where he went. It was the same response each time.  
  
"I'm busy, Sirius, that's all. I am a prefect you know." And he would kiss the blue eyed youth and walk away.  
  
But Sirius was determined that he find out where Moony spent his time.  
  
It was on that spring morning, wandering about the halls with the forlorn feeling of a neglected puppy that he saw Snape walking from one of the classroom doors. He was holding something that was oddly familiar to Sirius. A book with a golden cover, it bore the words Potions for the Alchemist inlaid in bronze on its binding. It took a moment of thought for Sirius to remember where he had seen it before, and then he became angry. Why, that was the book that Remus had shown him, a present and treasure his Father had given Moony during his first year at Hogwarts. Remus had never liked potions, but he treasured the gift because it was the last thing his father had bought him before he died. Without thinking, Sirius strode forward and gripped Snape by the robes, turning him around roughly.  
  
"That's Remus'!" he growled, pointing to the book. "How'd you get your filthy hands on it?"  
  
Snape, taken aback momentarily by the sudden affront, sneered and jerked himself from Sirius' hold. He pushed his stringy black hair from his face with a disgusted look and glared death at the taller boy. "Its mine, you fool. I bought it." He held up the book as if that was proof in itself. Sirius lunged for him, but Snape sidestepped. "You liar! That belongs to my friend! I've seen it myself!" the irritation that Padfoot had been feeling all morning and frustration in not being able to find Remus had built up, and now Sirius was almost happy to pick a fight with Snape. Snape only sneered though, and held the book protectively close.  
  
"I bought this from that little 'friend' of yours. You can ask him yourself!" Snape pointed towards the door he had just come out of. It was closed, but Sirius knew it was one of the deserted classrooms, for he and Remus had often met there during passing periods for a quick snog. Sirius pushed Severus away harshly, cruel pleasure flashing through his mind as he heard the boy hit the wall roughly. He threw the boy a nasty look and told him that he better not be lying. He pulled the door open with a soft creak and looked inside.  
  
Remus was sitting in a corner, light from the window streaming in and lighting his hair in a shade of brazen gold. His head was bent over some papers, and he was muttering softly to himself as he did when he was working on his Arithmancy homework. "Moony?" Sirius called as he shut the door behind him, Snape and book forgotten. Remus looked up from his papers, and Sirius could see a flush creep over the pale skin of the others cheeks. "Sirius? What are you doing here?" he said as he quickly gathered up the papers. Sirius strode across the room and took them gently from the boy's hands even as he protested. He glanced at them, but could make nothing of the numbers and figures that filled up the sheets. Giving up on them, he set them aside on a desk that was pushed against the wall. "Remus, what is Snape doing with your book?" he asked, a little savagely for all his frustration. Remus winced as if the words stung, and shook his head. "I was tired of it, that's all. I needed a little extra money-" he stopped when he looked up and saw Sirius face. "For what?" the taller boy asked. "And what have you been doing every weekend? I hardly see you!" Sirius suddenly felt angry that Remus would keep a secret from his, something so simple and stupid as money. What could Remus possible need so bad that he was selling his treasures. And he must be doing some kind of work, Sirius thought as he gazed at the papers he had taken from Remus. Yes, that's what those figures must mean, but what could cost so much that-  
  
Sirius stopped mid thought and stared down in shock at the golden-eyed youth as the realization struck him. Remus was looking at him with an anxious look, and suddenly Sirius was embarrassed at his asinine behavior.  
  
"Don't tell me.Remus, is this for the guitar?" he asked as he sat down suddenly. Remus hesitated, and nodded slowly, as if afraid what the taller boy say, but Sirius only shook his head.  
  
" I knew it was expensive, but Rem, this is too much! You can't sell something so precious as your fathers' book just for me. I'm not worth that!" he shook his head again, and ran a hand through his hair, sprawling out in the chair as if he couldn't support his own weight. Remus didn't say anything, but rose slowly to his feet and walked over to the boy, straddling his lap and kissing him on the lips lightly. Sirius shook his head, but wound his hands around the other anyway with a sigh.  
  
"It was my choice, Sear. I wanted to do it." He commenced to kiss Sirius jawline and down his neck, but Sirius couldn't accept it that easily.  
  
"Remus, it doesn't matter. That's too much, that books too important to you- " Remus clamped a hand on the boys wide mouth. Dressed in a simple white shirt and brown breeches under black robes and mussed hair, he looked like a golden honey angel to the darker boy. His expression was calm and serious, and he was looking the other dead in the eyes as he spoke.  
  
"Sirius, its not important. I have many things from my father. The book doesn't matter. What matters to me is that I make you happy. That's what's important to me. It's worth it, and I don't mind the work it takes. Can't you see that?" he removed his hand and kissed Padfoot strong on the lips, running his hands under the boys shirt and across his chest. The dark youth sighed into the kiss, exasperated and embarrassed that the other could care so much about him that he would give up something so important to him just for a Christmas gift. Sirius knew that he could never tell the boy how much he meant to him, and he would spend his life trying to make the werewolf happy. Grinning as the other pulled away, he pulled Remus up in an embrace and set him on his feet.  
  
"Come on." Sirius pulled on the smaller boys arm, bringing him to the door and out into the corridor.  
  
"Where are we going?" Remus gave the darker boy an innocent, confused look. Sirius couldn't help but smile.  
  
"I'm going to play for you. I want to make you happy." For all that you've ever given me, I want to make you happy. I always will. 


End file.
